Taken Care Of
by StarGazer1313
Summary: When Sherlock gets John not only sick but almost killed he is forced to rethink their current relationship. Why is John so different? Why does he care so much? Sherlock doesn't know and that scares him but not as much as the thought of loosing his blogger. John is also confused by the change of character Sherlock is displaying. JOHNLOCK FLUFF! Smut may ensue but I have no idea.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note! You have been warned, there might be explicit content I'm not sure so deal with it! For now though just some cute Johnlock fluff! Please let me know what you think this is my first Fan-Fic to be gentle. **

Johns POV-

The rain was coming down hard now and I was soaked to the bone. Despite my ever lasting attempt to stay warm and dry. It had at least been a week and a half since I had last slept. I knew it must be worse for Sherlock then again it was always worse for Sherlock. It was around 11 P.M when we had finally found our target. I quickly texted Lestrade to let him know our whereabouts. "Sherlock we need to think this through." I was worried. Under the street lamp we were trying to avoid it was clear that he was losing weight again and at an alarming rate. His jacket little good to conceal his stature under the weight of so much water.

The rain had been coming down in buckets for some time leaving me in a almost infinite chill. "Don't be daft John I always think things through. Did you text Lestrade?" "Yes but-" "Look there he is!" Sherlock pointed at a man in a lengthy beige coat walking out of a rather unfriendly looking pub. Our target was Zachariah Trent. A supposed loving husband and father who was mourning the brutal death of his wife and twin sons, age 7. This one had really thrown us for a loop. For almost 2 weeks we have been chasing our tails and any leads we could get. Now that the police were on our way I was looking forward to the warmth and dry comfort of home. That was until Sherlock decided to be a compulsive git.

"Sherlock where on earth are you going?" I tried to gain his attention with hushed tones but it was no use. Before my eyes Sherlock Holmes was following a cold blooded killer down an ally way. I raced after as fast as I could the weight of clothing doing little to help my situation. What I saw next was something I had hoped to never see again. Sherlock and I were now face first with the barrel of a rather intimidating looking gun. The blood shot eyes behind it weren't very pleasing to see either. "John, I do believe I made a small miscalculation." I raised my hands defensively and walked slowly forward to were Sherlock was. "Really I never would have guessed." Sherlock had told me that no matter how much rage the killings had appeared to have that the killer was a generally gentle soul. 'Boring in nature' were the words he used. My inner solider kicked in, Adrenaline high my heart was racing. Counting down seconds till Lestrade could get here. I knew Zachariah was talking but the blood was pumping so fast in my ears I couldn't hear a thing. Sherlocks lips moved as if to reply. In retort Zachariah pulled the trigger, missing Sherlock due to his shaking hands but I lost it. My old ways taking charge I sprung into action.

Sherlocks POV-

I heard the gun go off and prepared myself for the soon to come pain but it never did. He had missed. Before I could be grateful I saw probably the most terrifying thing of my life. John had leaped from his place next to me and onto the suspect. I was frozen solid. "John!" I heard myself scream Johns name in fear but it was almost like someone else. The emotions racing in my belly and mind were numbing, As John fought off the attacker I watched it all happening to fast. I saw the gun rise into the air and fall well away from everyone. I got up thinking it was over and then heard the most unbearable noise ever. John screamed. He screamed in pain and fell over as the culprit rose and ran in down the ally I quickly grabbed the gun and shot. The noise and quake shook my body but I just ran. I ran to Johns side and flipped him over. There was a knife sticking out of his side. "Oh John." I felt my wall of security and calm shatter as the blood rushed from his wound. "Sh-Sherlock I'm fine."


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlocks POV

Kettle on the stove, chair in position, floor cleared of clutter, fridge stocked yes. Everything is had been two weeks since John was stabbed and he was due home today. I couldn't help but feel guilty. Which is something that I have never felt at least, not until the Fall. It had been on my whim that John had gotten hurt and on my whim that he had gotten sick. Due to the storm I had him running around in with little to no food or sleep had caused him to develop a nasty case of pneumonia. I should have known better John isn't like me he cannot function on so little. I quietly sat and waited. Lestrade had agreed to give him a ride home since I do not own a car and a taxi would be to much hassle today.

Johns POV

"John are you ready?" Greg stood at my door with a bag of the books and such Mrs Hudson had dropped off for me. "Yes alright." I tried to take the bag from him but he wouldn't let me. God I hate pity. My side hurt like hell... I wish Sherlock had kept him damn mouth shut. I was fine I could have patched myself up for Gods Sake! I bundled up tight when we got to the check out counter. " Now Dr. Watson you really shouldn't be leaving..." I gave her my Shut the Fuck up look but it did no good. "Why not? He's fine isn't he?" Greg piped in. The nurse scolded me. " No he has Pneumonia, the stab wound may be healing nicely but the state of his lungs is dreadful." As if on cue I coughed, jerking my side I bit back a groan and wince. Greg gave me a look that could kill. " John Watson what are you doing?" I looked at him. "Well if you could please hurry up I would be going home..." I quickly signed the release form and hurried to the parking lot. "John wait!" "Wait for what Greg? To get better? To die off? Well I would rather been in my own home in good company than in this bloody prison!" I was breathing hard now and it hurt but I didn't care I just wanted to get home and give Sherlock a piece of my mind. Greg stammered a bit. "John I know your a doctor and all but do you really think you should be in this state alone with..." "With who Greg? Sherlock?" I was mad. And I wasn't going to hide it, Who did he think he was? "Look John I'm sorry it's just-" "Just what? That he's a compulsive sod? A Sociopath or whatever? Well he may be but I would put my life in his hand before anyone else in the bloody hospital!" I could tell me face was red, I'm glad that we were outside and pretty much alone, I did work here after all. Greg backed off and I got into the car. The drive felt like a life time.

Sherlocks POV

It was a quarter past three. Where are they? I had spent the past Week reading all of Johns medical books, knowing he would be coming back sick. I shuffled through my head the best I could. Over the months my mind had been a tad scramble is you will. Ever since I came back. I'll never forget the look on Johns face. It was so beautiful and painful at the same time... wait, Beautiful? Get a hold of yourself Sherlock he's your flatmate, _and best friend_ my mind kindly added. I heard a car door slam out the window and hurried to it. John was home... he looked thinner, not eating? No. he hates hospital food. He also looked angry, but why? oh. Lestrade also looked rather disturbed when he got out and grabbed Johns bag much to Johns dismay. Had they fought? And if so about what? I ran all the possible scenarios through my head as I hurried and turned the kettle on. Johns footsteps were hard but far spread. He was still in pain. Dammit. He opened the door I quickly took action. "Welcome back John. Hello Lestrade." I gave a smile to the pair as I saw Johns eyes scan the flat for my latest damage. He found non and that added a little more authenticity to my smile. "Uh. Hey Sherlock Where do you want this?" Lestrade held up Johns bag and I took it from him. "I'll take it off your hands and Lestrade thank you for giving John a ride home." He looked confused and rightfully I was never this nice. John looked at me like I had just lain an egg. I smiled and went into the kitchen. "Lestrade would you like a cup of tea?" I poured mine and Johns and reached for a second mug. "Uh... no thanks Sherlock I should get back to the Yard... Um have a nice day." He went to leave and John stopped him, from my placement I deduce he was saying sorry of something of sorts. Lestrade quickly left and drove away. When I came back with the Tea John was still standing in the doorway. "Sherlock... What's going on?"


End file.
